


Moon and Stone

by whenyouwishupona



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 09:42:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2617286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenyouwishupona/pseuds/whenyouwishupona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson, a rugged Prince, returns home from a devastating, yet triumphant, battle with the evil kingdom of Nybor. He is to take the throne, and wed Mary, a chambermaid from a wealthy family. He has been betrothed to Mary his entire life, yet he has never felt like she was truly his destiny.<br/>Sherlock Holmes, is a stable boy, who's father was a famous knight. Sherlock lives in his brother Mycroft's shadow, though he believes he is destined for greater things. People have always questioned Sherlock's brilliant mind, but he just dreams of becoming a scholar, and traveling the world.<br/>When cases of witch craft start to pop up around the kingdom, rumors begin to spread of a master sorcerer, who is controlling them. Mycroft is hired to seek out this sorcerer and put  an end to the madness.<br/>The threat of Nybor still looms, and the aster sorcerer is growing stronger by the day. John must handle all these things and more with grace, while dealing with the aftermath of battle.<br/>Johnlock Medieval AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Clang, clang, clang. Screams. Men begging for their children, wives, mothers. Ash filling the air like a dark, rotten snow. Around him, men laid strewn like autumn leaves. The metallic smell of blood stinging his nostrils. John took a breath. It was finally over. Nybor was defeated. The count of men returning to his home kingdom of Rose was sad compared to the thousands they had left with.

A few of the men remaining wandered around, picking at the corpses of their friends, and in some cases family, looking for anything to take back with them as a reminder. A reminder of the lives taken from them too soon. John's father had died in battle thirteen years ago. John thought about how he should have died in battle as well. Some men sat in a clearing, drinking ale from their pouches. Grumbling about their luck, that they survived while many had not. John almost joined them, but decided it would be wiser to go back to camp and pack. 

Camp was a mere two hills from the battle. Had Nybor been intelligent, they would have just attacked the camp. John was glad they were not intelligent. The camp had been mostly deconstructed the dawn previous, but some horses remained to be taken back to Rose. John could not have been happier to leave this place. He had seen countless battles, endless nights, and far more good men die than he'd ever wished. 

John however, found himself not entirely wanting to return home either. His wedding was set to be two weeks after his return, and he would take the throne after he took a sort holiday with his new wife, Mary. Mary had never been very nice to John. He'd only met her a handful of times, despite her being in the castle every day. She worked as a chambermaid for his mother, the queen. John wanted to return home, but not to his future.

John removed his armor alone and loaded it onto a horse. Sixteen men were returning with him. Those sixteen men were going to be labeled heroes. John would be labeled a hero. Just like his father.

*****

Sherlock removes a piece of hay from his hair. Today was the day that men would return from battle, he had to look presentable. Mycroft was in town already, while Sherlock had been washing up. There would be a large celebration of Rose's victory over Nybor. Sherlock's father had been injured terribly in a battle with Nybor. The same battle that the King had been killed in. His father was best friends with the king, and they rode into battle together. Only his father had returned.

He couldn't wait to see the look on those men's face when they returned home. The relief they must feel, to finally be back on these streets. Sherlock grabbed his nicest jacket and stepped out onto the street. Dust lingered in the air from all the movement. People filled the streets, wearing their finest clothing, and smiling with the hope that their son, father, brother, or husband would be one of the sixteen men returning with the prince. 

Sherlock worked at the royal castle in the stables. He knew Prince John well, and was excited to see him again after he was gone for almost a year. 

John had come of age while he was away, and would take the throne soon after he was wed to Mary, who Sherlock also knew. She was kind, but she seemed to have a superiority about her that Sherlock did not think John appreciated. John was most likely in love with some peasant girl anyway. Like it would be hard for anyone to fall in love with the Prince.

The sun was lowering in the sky as the first horse came over the bridge into Rose. They were finally here. 

Leading the group of men was Prince John. He looked as though he hadn't washed himself since the final battle. He had ash in his hair, and a trail of dried blood lead to a wound on his eyebrow. He looked very much like his father. He looked like a king.

Sherlock pushed through the people on the street until he saw his brother.

"Mycroft," he called through the crowd. His brother turned to him and motioned for him to come closer. 

Sherlock continued to push through the street until he reached his brother.

"He looks just like his father, doesn't he?" Mycroft noted. 

"Very much so, I was just thinking that."

The two Holmes brothers stood and watched as the remaining men were reunited with their families. Sherlock remembered the day that his father had returned. He was missing both legs, but they were overjoyed at the sight that he was alive. Many people on the street began to cry out when they realized that their loved one had not returned. Sherlock silently hoped he would never know that feeling.

When the grieving families retreated to their homes, Sherlock and Mycroft headed to the castle for the feast. There would be many people there tonight to celebrate the homecoming, though it was very small and sad.

Sherlock was just excited to see John again. He hope that John would be happy to see him.

*****

"I'm supposed to wear this?" John scoffed looking at his dining clothes, "these are far too small. Find something else."

John found that he had become very temperamental upon his return from battle. Everything was wrong, and no one would listen to him. He wished he wasn't going to be married in two weeks, and he certainly didn't want to be a king. HE wasn't ready to be king, he had just seen thousand of men die. He couldn't o that again. 

He stared at the mirror in his bed chambers blankly. He didn't even recognize his own face. He hadn't seen it properly for a year. Tomorrow he would have his portrait done to commemorate the battle. John hated that he was the one being commemorated. What about the men who lost their lives? Just because they weren't princes means that they don't matter? John felt sick.

"We found you these, sir," a small voice came from his chamber door.

"Yes, yes, bring them in," John said, waving them in.

The small chambermaid entered the room slowly, and ran to the wardrobe, hanging the clothes on it, before quickly exiting the chamber again. John feared that he had scared the poor girl.

He assessed the clothes. They would do. He just wanted this whole thing to be over and done with. John wished in that moment that he had died in battle. He wasn't ready to take on the responsibility that was left to him.


	2. Chapter 2

John rushed down the cold, bare stairs. He hadn't had any time to put anything on his feet, and was resented the fact that he'd been bothered at this time of night.

He could hear loud, urgent voices as he neared the library. There were already people gathered, he thought, great. He stopped for a moment outside the door. There was a runner on the corridor floor that kept the shiny marble from freezing John's feet. He was grateful. He took a deep breath before entering the library. The moment everyone saw him, the room fell silent.

"Your majesty," everyone in the room muttered as they bowed their heads.

"I'm not the king yet, what is it?" John practically yelled. He was tired from the previous night. What a night.

"Sorry to wake you, John, but there's been an urgent letter. Your mother was the one who opened it and, well," Michael paused holding out a crumpled piece of parchment, "you're going to want to read it."

**** The Previous Night *****

After moping in his bed chambers for as long as he could, a guard arrived to escort John to the feast. He was nervous, as most of Rose would be there, and he would have to make a speech about the battle. To be honest, John hadn't known most of the men who died on that day. He didn't even really know the men who came home with him. He would have to pretend like they were all close to him in a special way. Just to honor their memory.

John was grateful for their sacrifice, after all, they did defeat Nybor, but he couldn't pretend that he was close with all of them. 

"Your majesty, I-" the guard started.

"I'm not the king yet, you may call me Prince John if you are so inclined."

"Prince John," the guard began again, "I am grateful for what you have done for our kingdom. I know your father would be proud of you. I knew him well, and he always spoke very highly of you."

John felt a sudden pan of guilt for cutting the guard off. He just didn't deserve the 'majesty' title yet. He hadn't even addressed the kingdom alone yet. This thought brought back the anxiety. He wasn't ready.

The music flowed out of the ballroom and into the surrounding corridors of the castle. John could hear a familiar tune as he approached the back entrance. His heart was beating fast, and he could hear hundreds of voices mixed in a blur with the music. He felt sick. He didn't want to do this. A mere week ago he was killing men from Nybor, watching as innocent men from both sides of battle were slaughtered. And here they were, celebrating the victory. He resented every last person in that ballroom. They had no idea what it was like on the battlefield. It wasn't glorious, it was hell.

A guard by the door coughed, bringing John out of his daze. He found that he had been staring at the door for a very long amount of time, and his cheeks began to flush. He nodded to the guards and the doors opened. Hundreds of eyes moved toward the opening that John was walking through. He felt every set of eyes moving with him, and he felt an extreme responsibility to be regal and sophisticated. He hated the feeling.

The group of people began to clap as John neared the railing of the balcony he had entered on, and he made his decent down the long, shiny, ivory staircase. The floor was so clean that John thought he might slip. He was relieved when he kept his balance the entire trip down. 

John waited and the bottom of the stairs for his mother, the queen, to enter, and they would make their way through the crowd together. 

Everyone's eyes moved back to where John had just come from, and the Queen made her entrance. Her gown was full, and light pink. Blue gems covered the skirt inn a beautiful representation of the kingdoms colors. The colors of he Watson house. The Queen made her way down the stairs elegantly. John thought she looked almost as if she were floating. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she reached out her hand and John took it. 

Applause rang through the gigantic ballroom as the made their way into the crowd. In that moment John, although he was glad to be home, wished that he was anywhere but there.

*****

Sherlock was wearing his nicest jacket, yet he still felt under dressed. Mycroft had nicer clothing on, but he worked for the royal family, and was given special privileges. Sherlock was just a stable boy. 

People moved about excitedly. Some were entering the castle for the first time. Sherlock had been inside many times. Mostly just to the kitchens, where his good friend Molly worked. This part of the castle was completely new to him though. He'd never been in the main hall, or the ballroom. He wasn't thinking about the castle as much as he was thinking about John. He had missed his friend, and couldn't wait to reconnect.

A very tall woman with very red lips was staring at Sherlock. He felt strange and dirty. He didn't want to be there, he wanted to go back to the stables and pet the horses. 

Just when Sherlock was about to leave, the people around him began to applaud. He turned to see John entering at the far end of the ballroom. He made his way down the staircase with ease. John was all the way across the room, there was no way that Sherlock would be able to get to him. He wasn't that important. 

The Queen entered the room moments after John reached the bottom of the staircase. She looked beautiful in her gown, that sparkled like a pale blushed sea. Sherlock applauded with the crowd this time. The Queen really was stunning. 

The Queen joined her son at the bottom of the stairs and the applause died down. The pair walked in unison to a string of people at the nearest window. It almost looked like the late King was once again escorting his wife around. John looked like a king. And he would soon become the King. Sherlock wondered if John would remain friends with a mere stable boy after he became the king. He then decided that he didn't want to think of that, and made his way to the food.

Sherlock was used to having lavish meals, from his time spent in the kitchen, but this food was more bountiful than usual. There were nine roasted pheasants all in a row, surrounded by whole potatoes, carrots, and radishes. Four large pots of soup sat at the end of the table. Each carried a different smell, one smelled sweet, like honey, another smelled very strongly of tomato. Sherlock was too nervous to eat, but everything looked amazing.

John and the Queen had made their was through about half of the room when Mycroft rejoined Sherlock.

"I was just talking to the head constable, and he says they've captured a witch," Mycroft said in a hushed tone. He seemed a little too excited about the fact.

"Well, can they prove that it's really a witch? Remember what happened the last time they killed a 'witch'?" Sherlock responded lightly. The last time they had captured someone they called a witch, she had merely been a child who died for nothing. No one trusted the head constable after that.

Mycroft adjusted his stance before speaking again, "yes, we all remember, but this time, it is a true witch. They're sure of it."

Sherlock smiled inwardly at his brothers blind trust. He believed anything the constables told him.

"There is speak of a group of witches. They are apparently residing in the woods to the north. I have been paid to go investigate and bring back as many as I can," Mycroft spoke as if he was the most important person in the kingdom. He wasn't going to find anything in the woods besides maybe some rocks. Sherlock decided he had had enough of Mycroft and walked away.

Sherlock found himself wandering toward the very tall windows at the side of the room. He could smell the food from where he stood. He still wasn't hungry, but many people were taking advantage of the free food. John was nearing by the minute, and Sherlock felt like he was going to be sick. It had been so long, what if John didn't recognize him?

John and the Queen were talking to a rather fat man, he errupted with laughter and the Queen and Prince took that as their chance to bid him farewell. Sherlock was next to be greeted.

"Hello," Sherlock began with a slight bow. His heart was pumping fast and he wasn't sure why.

"Hello again," the Queen said with a smile. John looked a little confused befroe something clicked and he realized who Sherlock was.

"Sherlock!" he said loudly, "it's been a very long time, eh?"

Sherlock simply nodded.

"Well surely you don't still work in the stables?" John said with a laugh.

"Actually, I do. Hard to find anywhere else so nice to work. There isn't exactly a shortage of scholars as of late," Sherlock replied with a small smile.

"We will have to have you over for supper one night and catch up then," John commanded.

"I would be flattered, we do need to catch up" Sherlock agreed,"my queen, John."

Sherlock bowed again and they left. It had gone better than he'd expected. John had forgotten his face, but he recalled it again, so it wasn't so bad. Sherlock suddenly felt very hungry and went to help himself to some food.

The Queen and John had finished walking around the room when John went back to take his place on he balcony at the top of the stairs. He stood for a moment while everyone began to quiet. The band stopped playing and everyone looked to John. Their future king.

"Hello everyone, thank you for coming tonight. I know it is a bitter occasion for some, but I can tell you one thing. We should all be in celebration of the fact the Nybor has finally been defeated." Applause echoed through the open air, and John began again, "your loved ones did not die for nothing. They made a noble sacrifice. And our kingdom is eternally grateful. They helped defeat the enemy who slayed my father, the King. To the sixteen brave men who returned with me, I also thank you for your sacrife. Battle is not something easy to endure. It takes strength, and I am pleased to honor you men tonight. And finally, to Mary, you will soon be my wife," Sherlock had not noticed that Mary was standing near the bottom of the stairs, "Our wedding is two weeks from today, and I invite all of you here. Now, let us eat, let us drink, and let us celebrate. Thank you." 

People applauded to their future king as he swiftly came back down the stairs to meet Mary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long to upload, I was originally going to continue with this chapter but I got writers black so I'm just posting this chapter as is. I wrote a few paragraphs beyond this but it wasn't anything good. Hope it wasnt too disappointing. Sorry again, and thanks for reading :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This is my first Johnlock fic, and it's also my first AU, so please only positive feedback. Thanks!! I hope you liked it!


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